


Milk & Pizza

by MightySSStrawberry



Series: Devil May Cry: Gates of Paradise [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Parents, Awkwardness, Baby Nero (Devil May Cry), Babysitting, Bonding, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Canon Divergence - Devil May Cry 3, Canon Related, Childhood, Children, Comedy, Comfort, Demons, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Feel-good, Feels, Fluff, Funcle Dante (Devil May Cry), Funny, Good, Good Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Good Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry), Good Writing, Happy Ending, Home, Humor, Innuendo, Love, Loving Marriage, Marriage, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Nero's Mother (Devil May Cry) - Freeform, Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry) is worried, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Post-Canon, Post-Devil May Cry 3, Precious Nero, Precious Nero (Devil May Cry), Protective, Protective Vergil (Devil May Cry), Protectiveness, Rescue, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Smol Nero, Smol Nero (Devil May Cry), Soft Vergil (Devil May Cry), Teasing, Tension, Trust, Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry), Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Vergil (Devil May Cry) Deserves Happiness, Violence, Worry, vergil deserves happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightySSStrawberry/pseuds/MightySSStrawberry
Summary: EXCERPT:Nero hoisted himself onto his feet, stuck out his tongue, and taunted his uncle with an emphatic raspberry.Dante rubbed his face.  “Impish little dead weight,” he muttered.Recommended for ages 16+ for sexual innuendoThis is a short story about Dante's adventures in babysitting his 1-year-old nephew!  Prepare for amusement! 🙏🏻 My official artist Chiharu-chin did the piece below 😊 Adorable! 🥰
Relationships: Dante & Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Devil May Cry: Gates of Paradise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939600
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	Milk & Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> Throughout my writings, the name of Nero's mother is Miranda, and she is entirely based upon the brief mysterious cutscene we get in Devil May Cry 4 Special Edition. This piece takes place in an Alternate Universe where instead of Vergil falling into the Underworld at the end of Devil May Cry 3: Dante’s Awakening, Dante persuades him to lay aside his ambitions for power and return to Redgrave City with him. Vergil then journeys back to Fortuna where he finds Miranda and discovers that he is a father. He and Miranda live in a nondescript, somewhat shabby apartment building near Port Caerula, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Fortuna’s religious crowds.
> 
> Personal Head Canon: Nero's mother called Vergil "V" as a sweet pet name, which is why in Devil May Cry 5 V calls himself V, though only subconsciously since his years enslaved to Mundus have wrecked his memory.

_Dante is not worthy as my son’s keeper._  


At the single grimy window of the cramped bedroom, Vergil stood in freshly pressed attire, his knee-high boots polished, pants fitted, and sleeveless leather vest recently oiled. His long coat of three elegantly patterned tails lay over the foot of the bed. The Yamato rested near at hand.  


Eyes closed in pensive thought, Vergil listened to the rising clamor of evening life on the streets below as dusk settled over Fortuna in shades of purple, purple as rich as the raiment worn by his legendary albeit estranged father. Long ago.  


Street lamps were lighting. People strolled along the seaside avenues, finishing their market visits. The cathedral bells tolled the transition from day to night. Demons had not been sighted for a few weeks. Yet Vergil remained ever uneasy.  


The sloshing of water carried from the tiny bathroom. The scent of plumeria and sea salt floated into the bedroom. It gently pulled at one corner of his mouth, igniting a memory of soft skin and hard heat. The distraction was fleeting, for his eye caught a patrol of knights marching below his ramshackle perch. Would they find his family tucked away up on this insignificant cliff? Fear for his wife and son often plagued him here in Fortuna, an island of suspect intentions, glib prayers, and power-hungry popes. The ghost of Vergil’s own desire for power haunted him.  


_Nero and Miranda shall never come to harm._  


“Up?”  


He blinked away his brooding and glanced into the crib. Nero, hardly a year old, stood on his bare tiptoes, both arms stretched high. Sapphirine eyes locked onto Vergil, determined to quell his disquiet.  


Smiling, the young father lifted the boy out of the castoff crib. Together they looked out the window, surveying Port Caerula. Nero pointed a finger at hooded people passing by, babbling noises like they were comprehensible words. Vergil nodded, grunting in agreement. With one little hand clutching Vergil’s hair, Nero was excited to tell him all about what he saw. Birds, clouds, knights, ships. A conversation nurturing to both father and son.  


The smell of plumeria deepened. Vergil glanced over his shoulder and smiled as Miranda came beside him. She wore nothing but a frayed maternity sweater that reached halfway to her knees.  


She dabbed Vergil’s waiting lips with the rosy softness of her own.  


“Mama!” Nero exclaimed, and reached out to her.  


Vergil passed the boy to his mother, and then slipped an arm around her waist. They rested their foreheads together. Miranda felt the disturbed frown across his brow.  


“You’re brooding again, sweet V,” she murmured. “I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either.”  


He scowled out the window. “You don’t know him like I do.”  


“Do you really know him that well?” she asked.  


Vergil snorted. “I know him well enough.”  


She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? What terrible things has he done?”  


He looked back at her with what may have been a threatening glare to most, but to Miranda it was just a frustrated pout. “Don’t mock me.”  


She sighed and touched his cheek. “It will be fine. We will only be gone for a few hours.”  


“You’re not worried at all?” he pressed, unconvinced. One of his white brows rose.  


Miranda bounced Nero on her hip. He giggled and nuzzled her neck. The smile their baby kindled in her heart faded as she answered, “Vergil, you know the terror that burdens me. The terror I feel every passing day for you and Nero.” She kissed their son’s hair. “But I cannot let that terror rule my heart.”  


Vergil pulled her and Nero close. “I will protect you.”  


She kissed his chin. “I know, but you must let your brother help you.”  


He sighed, irritated. “He’s…irresponsible.”  


“He’s powerful,” she reminded him.  


His fierce gaze hardened and he opened his mouth to combat that truth, but Miranda pressed her fingers to his lips.  


“You are both sons of Sparda,” she said. “You share your father’s soul and power. You are stronger together.”  


Vergil avoided her loving gaze, mulling over her words. She wasn’t wrong. Nero started to fuss.  


“I should feed him,” she said, “and then I’ll finish getting ready.” She kissed the corner of Vergil’s mouth. He nodded.  


As Nero suckled at her breast, Miranda murmured sweet whispers over him. Captivated, Nero’s wide, blue gaze never strayed from his mother’s face as she smiled down at him.  


Vergil took a book and settled on the threadbare couch in the poky living room. The apartment was so meager. Cracks in the walls. Only two windows. Leaky faucet. Scuffed flooring. Chipped bathtub. Freelance sword training paid too little in a religion-obsessed city of professional knighthood for Vergil to provide a more worthy abode. Miranda never complained and endlessly reassured him of her happiness. At least the bed was comfortable and clean.  


He tried to read, but was too agitated by the idea of leaving his son in the hands of his wild brother. He set the book aside, leaned an elbow on the tattered armrest, and pinched the bridge of his nose.  


A rapid knock thunked upon the door. Vergil almost summoned a phantom blade to answer it instead of doing so himself.  


“Yo, bro,” Dante greeted with a two-fingered salute. “I’m ready to handle this kid.”  


Now that Devil May Cry was getting better business thanks to his brother’s Temen-ni-gru nonsense, Dante was finally generating income. Therefore, he had invested in more appropriate attire. A stylish strawberry-red coat and pants, tall black boots and buckles, and gloves that protected palms and fingers. He had even trimmed his hair.  


“Are you?” Vergil challenged. “I hate this arrangement.”  


Dante crossed his arms and shrugged. “Mira’s the boss, so better do as she says.” He winked.  


Growling, Vergil stood aside to let Dante into the apartment.  


“Alright, give me all the rules. I’m ready,” Dante said, gesturing at his stiff brother with a vague wave of his hand. He dropped onto the couch and swung one leg atop the other.  


A muscle pulsed in Vergil’s jaw as he battled his better judgment. “If my son comes to any harm—”  


“Who kept your ass out of the literal hellfire? Hm?” Dante reminded him.  


Vergil narrowed his eyes. “First, you are not to leave the apartment.”  


“Oh, he’s not old enough for strip clubs yet?” Dante sniggered.  


“Fortuna doesn’t even have a—!”  


Dante rolled his eyes and neck, groaning. “I’m _joking_ , Verge, shit, lighten up already.”  


Vergil dragged in a loud, deep breath to temper his devil’s urge to throw down with his snarky sibling. “Next. No solid foods.”  


Dante nodded. “He prefers boobs. I’m starting to like this kid.”  


“Dante!” Vergil snarled through gritted teeth.  


He spread his arms, grinning. “It’s so easy to mess with you, I just can’t resist! Your pissed-off face brings joy to my soul!”  


“And finally,” Vergil continued, fire gathering in his chest, “if he fusses a lot he’s probably tired so just walk him around until he quiets down.”  


Dante pursed his lips, fighting giggles behind his gloved hand.  


“Is everything a joke to you?” Vergil growled.  


Dante cleared his throat, sobering, and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m still getting used to the fact that you made a baby, that’s all. Sorry.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “And with such a peachy babe!”  


AirTrick. Throat punch.  


Dante bent over his knees and coughed. “Ah, shit!”  


“Vergil,” Miranda called from the bedroom in a singsong, reprimanding tone. “This apartment cannot accommodate your irritation with your brother.”  


“Damn you,” he muttered at Dante, his nose crinkling.  


Once he got his breath back, Dante chuckled. “She’s definitely the boss.”  


Miranda came into the tiny living room dressed in rich shades of red, her hair woven into a long plait that hung over one shoulder. Nero babbled as he studied the little stuffed panther toy in his hands.  


Dante rose to meet them. “Hey, kid, remember me?”  


“Remember Uncle Dante?” Miranda asked Nero.  


Nero’s big curious eyes stared at his uncle. Focused. Silent.  


Dante grimaced. “Um, maybe not?”  


Miranda giggled. “He remembers. He’s adjusting to your aura. Sometimes when V is upset Nero will stare at him and it helps V calm down.”  


Nero reached out a hand to his uncle. Dante held out one of his own. Nero gave him a high five. The boy laughed, bouncing in his mother’s arms.  


Miranda smiled at Vergil. “Nothing to fret over, see?” Returning her attention to Dante, she said, “There is fresh breast milk in the ice box if he gets hungry. Be sure to warm it up, but not too hot. Test it first.”  


Dante’s eyes widened. “Uh…”  


Vergil bit his lip and stole a clandestine glance at Miranda’s breasts, his face bursting in bright crimson. The blush in her cheeks was just as vivid as her eyes flicked aside at him.  


Dante cleared his throat. _I don’t want to know what that meant._  


“Just dab a little on your wrist,” she clarified, trying to shake the awkward moment, and then added, “There is leftover pizza for you. Strawberries too.”  


“Nothin’ else I need,” Dante said, resisting another boob joke for her sake and his. He was not used to feeling embarrassed. “Thanks, Mira.”  


Nero leaned toward Dante, reaching out for him with both arms. Miranda handed him over. The child patted his uncle’s cheeks. Dante puckered his lips and made a funny noise. Nero shrieked with laughter, and then patted Dante’s face harder. Dante made the noise again, louder this time. Nero squealed, enraptured by the new game.  


“They’ll be fine,” Miranda assured Vergil, giving his hand a squeeze. “Now let’s hurry. We have a reservation to keep.”  


Vergil fetched his coat from the bedroom and donned it, and then opened the front door for Miranda. Before following her out, the Yamato in hand, he turned back to his brother and said, “One last thing, Dante.”  


“Yeah?”  


“I’d suggest your Trickster style.” A devilish, dimpled grin spread across his face. “Try and keep up.” With that he closed the door.  


Dante slid a nervous glance at his nephew. “Trickster, huh?” He was too young to be walking already.  


Nero stuck out his tongue and spat all over his uncle. Dante blinked the spit away. “Let’s rock.”  


* * *  


Nero was screaming. Huge tears spilled down his cheeks. Dante, coatless and flustered, dug into the ice box for the milk, trying not to think about where it came from. After warming and testing it according to Miranda’s instructions, he plucked up his nephew, plopped him onto his lap, and shoved the rubber nipple into his gaping mouth. Instantly his screams died as he chugged down the milk, gulping and grunting.  


Dante sighed in relief. “They’ve only been gone for forty-five minutes, you know.”  


Nero coughed. It sounded too close to choking. Milk dribbled out of his mouth. Dante sat him upright and patted his back. Nero burped. Loud.  


Dante laughed. “Nice one.”  


Nero burped again, but this time a splat of white goop bombed Dante’s vest.  


“Ah, shit, kid!” he groaned.  


Nero just giggled and kicked his feet, feeling much better.  


“Okay, crib time,” he declared, and carried his nephew into the bedroom. He dunked the boy into the crib and stripped off his vest. “I’m sending your old man my dry cleaning bill.”  


Nero hoisted himself onto his feet, stuck out his tongue, and taunted his uncle with an emphatic raspberry.  


Dante rubbed his face. “Impish little dead weight,” he muttered.  


Nero fell silent, staring at his uncle as if suddenly possessed or mind-wiped.  


Dante frowned back. “What?”  


Then he sensed it. Dante bolted in a flash of red to the crib, Ebony and Ivory raised for combat. The room darkened as unnatural shadows crept up the walls. Nero began to cry. Helpless little whimpers of fear.  


“Up! Up!” he pleaded, reaching for his uncle.  


Dante spun around just as a humanoid hand of serrated bloody talons reached up through the crib’s mattress to crush his nephew in its murderous grip. Four bullets plugged the hideous hand, stalling it just long enough for Dante to holster Ebony and snatch Nero out of its reach.  


“I gotcha,” he told Nero, holstering Ivory. He reached behind him for the Rebellion only to remember that he’d left it on the couch. Trickster! Dash-dash.  


In the moment the Rebellion was at home in Dante’s hand, the demon rose out of the wooden floor, moaning in gluttonous hunger. It was nothing more than a huge bulbous stomach lined in multiple rows of shark teeth. Eight muscular arms ended in talons designed for ripping and shredding.  


“Bring it, shit head,” Dante said, smirking.  


If the apartment were any smaller, using the Rebellion would have been impossible without collateral damage.  


The demon lurched at Dante, clumsy and hardly perilous. Its giant tongue dangled out of its mouth, covered in oozing pustules.  


“Sorry, fatty, but Sparda kin would just give you indigestion,” Dante quipped, and shoved the Rebellion between all its teeth and out the back of its leathery body.  


The demon gargled and flailed. Dante gave the Rebellion a hard twist. The demon screamed, and then fell limp. In a matter of seconds it melted into a rank puddle of blood and pus.  


“Your mom might not be too happy about that,” Dante remarked, wincing at the stained carpet.  


Nero, still tucked under his uncle’s arm, giggled and squirmed. Dante sheathed the Rebellion across his back and held Nero in both hands.  


“You okay, kid?” he asked.  


Nero laughed and patted his uncle’s face.  


Dante smiled, chuckling.  


* * *  


Vergil opened the door expecting the absolute worst. Broken furniture. Blood stains. Bullet holes. Blade marks. He did not expect to find his son curled up in a peaceful sleep in the crook of his brother’s arm on the couch. Since his mouth was full, Dante gestured in greeting with the piece of pizza he was eating.  


There was a blood stain, though. A big one. Vergil pointed at it, raising an eyebrow.  


Dante swallowed and answered, “Demon wanted to eat your kid. I took care of it.” He shoved another huge bite of pizza into his mouth.  


Miranda followed close behind Vergil into the apartment and gasped at the sight of the blood stain, but when she saw her baby asleep in his uncle’s protective arm she relaxed.  


“He was in good hands, V,” she said to Vergil, kissing his cheek. She went to Nero and took him into her arms. “Thank you, Dante,” she said, touching his shoulder.  


Dante winked. “He’s a good kid.”  


Miranda smiled and disappeared into the bedroom to lay Nero down.  


Dante finished the last bite of pizza, and then rose from the couch. Vergil stood awkwardly by the door, unsure what to say. After slipping on his coat and sliding the Rebellion onto his back, Dante sauntered toward the door.  


“I like your kid,” he told Vergil. “Can’t wait to spar with him someday.”  


A proud smile formed on Vergil’s mouth. “I look forward to seeing him beat you.”  


Dante laughed and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You know what? So do I.”  


With that he left, offering a salute on his way out. From that day on, Vergil didn’t worry much about leaving Nero in the care of his powerful brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Dan Southworth has said that he believes Nero's mother was "significant" to Vergil, according to who Vergil is. I agree with this, and it is the perspective from which I am writing. Please also check out my novella _Heaven's High Bower_ , which is all about how Vergil met Nero's mother ^_^
> 
> A HUGE shoutout to my beta reader, Chiharu-chin! She has kept me motivated through all my DMC fan fiction writing and deserves more hugs than I could ever give! You rank SSS! :-D  
> Check out her DMC art on Instagram and Twitter! It is marvelous!  
> Links here:  
> [Chiharu-Chin Art - Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/chiharu.chin/)  
> [Chiharu-Chin Art - Twitter](https://twitter.com/ChinChiharu/status/1245071698166190080?s=19) First Miranda art she did! <3 More to come!
> 
> Tell me what your favorite moment in this piece was in the comments! I'd love to know!
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! *bows*
> 
> I am also a Devil May Cry 5 photographer!  
> Please check out my photos on Instagram -> [kazuhirakennedy](https://www.instagram.com/kazuhirakennedy/)


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